Burn
by Aelingil
Summary: The sand snaked around his ankles as he entered the city, identification cards in his pocket. He had walked far enough. This was where he would stay, for this was the town of the demon fox. GaaraNaruto
1. Enter

A/N: This story was born of screams and bloodied fingers. But on another note it is kind of AU because I don't think Naruto goes to school, just ninja school, but tough. Artistic license. No doubt I've got a few things wrong, I've only read the current American Shonen Jumps and some episode guides. So if you could correct me I'd be happy to change it if it doesn't mess with the plot too much.ï 


	2. Scald

**Chapter 2**

Naruto had asked for adventure hadn't he? Or at least something exciting to happen. Well it had happened, in the form of an old acquaintance who had just happened to be a psycho. Somehow the fox boy didn't feel the shock or thrill he should have, nor the fear. The boy just turns up, giving Naruto his break from the ordinary and a bit of a fright as well. Yet he felt nothing. Maybe it was post traumatic stress he was waiting for. That had to be it! So Naruto sat down to wait for the inevitable stress to come.

Waiting...waiting...waiting...stomach growling...

'Then I suppose I should really move those comics. I DON'T want to piss him off.'

He was already in enough peoples' bad books.

So the naïve little Naruto hopped along the hall to Gaara's closet and knocked politely. Or as politely as Naruto could muster.

"Yoohoo. Gaara. Psst. You in there?" Hesitantly the boy his the door with his fist a couple times, waiting for an answer.

Gingerly, Naruto opened the door to a rather interesting scene. Gaara was sitting on the floor, engaging in what seemed to a death-glare staring match with the comics on the floor.

"Umm, Gaara, what are yo-"

"Why do you own comics about ninjas if you already are a ninja?...And why is it called Naruto?"

Naruto walked over to where Gaara was sitting and looked at the manga on the floor. "Oh, those? I haven't looked at those for years. I bought them before I became a ninja – I thought that they were really cool. And who wouldn't want a comic that has the same name as them?"

"If you hadn't looked at them for years why don't you throw them out? You are an idiot, and a narcissistic one at that." With that, Gaara's mouth quirked in what might, for him, pass as what could possibly, maybe be a smirk.

Naruto looked a little taken back at this, but then grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right!" he said as he started to laugh.

Looking back at the fox the Sand Nin realized the other boy grinning. Not quivering in fear, nor shaking in anger. The other boy was laughing, not at him either. This was new. He, Gaara, the spook from the sands was being welcomed by a large grin.

But was this an improvement?

In a way, not being feared and hated was a breath of fresh air. But somehow being befriended like this reeked of betrayal. Betraying his way of life. He enjoyed having peoples' fear, their full attention, power over them. Immediately his face returned to its stoic medium and he turned back to his "room."

Naruto was left wondering what had just happened. One moment the other ninja seemed to be warming up to him, but then, in an instant, he was as distant as ever again. Was exactly was going on in that boy's mind?

Unsure and knowing it mind take some brain power and, heaven forbid, some patience, he decided to do what he always did.

Eat Ramen.

Besides, dinnertime was near and though the fox hadn't seen Gaara all afternoon, he was fairly sure the other boy hadn't eaten. Naruto felt bad about giving the Sand Nin just a large closet to use as a room. He would have gladly used it instead but, if there was one thing he had learnt from any previous encounters with Gaara, it was that it was wisest not to argue with him. Most people who argue with Gaara no longer walk among the living.

Naruto eased the kettle full of water back onto the stove and it up to a medium heat. It wasn't as if Gaara slept though. I mean, he was just going to keep extra supplies and clothes in there. But where did Gaara go at night? What did he do? Naruto began to get more and more paranoid just thinking about Gaara sneaking around his house at night. Naruto's hands crept up to his throat and his swallowed hard.

PPPHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!

Ack! Naruto jumped high and landed on the table, searching desperately for the source of the sudden noise. Then he spotted the kettle, squeaking innocently to inform him of the boiled water. The fox boy heaved another sigh and walked over to the black pot. Gently lifting it he gingerly began to pour the scalding water into the Styrofoam cups of Ramen. Just then a monotone voice spoke behind him.

"What's that?"

"Oh, Shit!" Naruto screamed as hot water gave his poor arm a 3rd degree burn. Naruto ran over the sink to put his arm under the marginally colder water as Gaara looked blankly at him. After the cooling liquid had dissipated the immediate pain, the blonde turned to glare at the other boy. Anger rose in his chest. How dare he just look on, not seeming to feel anything. Was Gaara really that cold? Even Sasuke would have asked him is he was alright, even if he would have added 'dunce' to the end of the sentence.

"Aren't you even going to pretend to be concerned?" Naruto shouted. He hated being ignored. It was his pet peeve, he even would have preferred Gaara to get angry at him for his clumsiness than this...this utter non-caringness.

"Why would I?"

Naruto stopped the outcry in his head. This was unexpected, a surprise. He didn't know. Why would Gaara pretend to care?

"Because it's polite, Jerk."

"Why does it matter if I'm polite?"

"Cause it makes me happier."

"Why do I care if you're happy?"

Honestly he had no answer to that. No-one cared why would Gaara care if Naruto was happy. Though, just as the blonde headed boy was going to walk down that depressing mental path again the Ninja from the Sand opened his mouth again.

"What were you making?" Suddenly adopting the changing topic Naruto looked over to the counter and grinned goofily, as if proud what would have been his greatest master piece..

"Well it was going to be ramen..." he began to explain.

"I'm sorry I ruined your ramen."

Naruto didn't understand, he just didn't understand. First the boy in front of him didn't care Naruto was in pain and then he said sorry for something irrelevant to most people. Who cares about Naruto's ramen? No one. So why did Gaara? But...

Never the less, it was nice.

A/N: Sorry that's shorter...


	3. Play

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, 8 in the first 24 hours! WOW! So, naturally I went straight to my computer and typed up this chapter. Other than you guys I had a foul day involving me loosing all my homework and a sheet I need signed for a field trip tomorrow. I have a tip for writing Gaara's character at the end of the chappie though, because I'm full of myself. Sorry this is short. I have to go to a wedding and I want it done before this weekend.

**Chapter 3**

Naruto looked Terrible.

I mean Terrible, with a capital T. His skin seemed pasty and lacked any normal Naruto shine. His hair. Dull. Lifeless. His face had also seen better days. The bags around his eyes were almost dark enough to match Gaara's.

But not quite.

Actually, overall he looked sort of looked similar to Gaara in this sickly I've-never-slept-for-years sort of way... The fox boy blamed it on the fact he actually didn't get any sleep the night before. Ideas, such as what Gaara was doing all night, were plaguing him. He wasn't curious in the way a school girl wonders where her crush is. Oh no. More in the way a mouse wonders where the owl is all night.

Thus a very disgruntled Naruto attempting to eat burnt toast for breakfast.

Gaara sat in his closet playing.

He didn't have a fantastic childhood. He didn't have a childhood at all. No toys but people, no playground but the world, no teacher but cruelty.

He did however have a sandbox.

All children want a sandbox, it's just fun. Gaara had one built in. He must have been the luckiest kid in the world, except for perhaps the pain, blood, and death that lurked around him. However, even at this age he still indulged in his 'playtime.'

The sand coiled around his hands, making abstract shapes and lines. His control was flawless, obviously a talent born of years working under the ultimate pressure. Death.

The young ninja sat on the hard wooden floor.

Dust clung to a few sparse cobwebs in the corners. The walls were plaster, cheap plaster and, in the absence of paint, parts were yellowing. Naruto had once decided he would pain his house. It had been a long time ago and he had promised himself this as an early birthday present.

He had gone out first thing in the morning, as dawn crept over the treetops, to buy himself some paint. Problem? He didn't know what kind to buy.

The smell of dew was still in the air as the boy bounded towards the Uchiha household. He bypassed the large gates, opting to jump over them, and ran right up to the door, ringing the bell impatiently. When a pissed of Sasuke finally greeted him, the raven-haired child was promptly dragged into town.

The fox had ignored the odd looks that he was getting when querying the young Uchiha as to whether pink or yellow would look better in the kitchen. Yellow, definitely yellow. However, not being able to decide between 12 colors he had bought them all, burning a large hole in his pocket.

Sitting in his house by himself, Naruto never had been able to decide and had used the paint in some later misadventure no doubt.

The sand sifted back into the gourd as Gaara stood up to face the day.

Sasuke was always fairly protective of the blonde boy next to him. However more than protect, he noticed. Sasuke noticed things. He noticed the color of the chalk being used to explain important information that would most likely be on the up-coming test. He noticed the door was slightly ajar. He distinctly noticed the sound of young children outside the window, even this early in the morning.

Some-what sparkly, blue eyes glanced momentarily upwards as Naruto attempted to copy the notes placed on the board. His mind wandered over the previous evening and his writing become more and more sparse.

Sasuke noticed this.

The dark-haired boy was curious and moved his eyes to see if Naruto's paper held any answers to the obvious lack of concentration. It did not.

"What's wrong?"

To tell or not to tell? Not even an option in Naruto's mind. Sasuke would be furious if he knew the truth. That Gaara was staying at his house. Sasuke would kick the Sand-nin out of the apartment himself. Sasuke was just motherly like that. No doubt the truth would have to stay to himself. So naturally when Naruto opened his mouth he was rather shocked to hear himself calmly explain that Gaara was, last time he checked, in his closet.

Ooops.

"What the hell!" Sasuke exclaimed. The teacher turned to him with a look of shock on his face. Sasuke was always a good student. What had got into him? Unable to explain Sasuke silently sat back down with a venomous promise to "discuss" this situation after school.

Naruto gulped.

Wandering around the town, odd looks were placed in his direction. By odd I mean frightened looks, disgusted sneers, upset expressions, confused faces and hurtful glares. Each like a knife slicing into his back.

Ahhh...it felt good.

Good to be hated. Good to hate them back. Good to imagine them being slowly suffocated. Good to feel the sand writhe.

Good to know it was all possible.

Yet Gaara had to keep himself in line. Sure Shukaku wanted blood above all right at this moment but Gaara had more control than that. He was stronger than that. He had no current purpose to be in the village but looking around was a good waste of time. It was purely by chance that the spook from the sand came across Naruto.

He appeared to be talking to none other than Sasuke. Gaara kept his distance to watch this scene from the shadows. From what he could see the Uchiha boy was angry with the blonde and was having no trouble expressing it. No one else in the street seemed too bothered with this display of aggravation. As though it was normal to see a hated demon boy be yelled at by one of the richest kids in the village. Little did Gaara know that he was the topic of discussion.

It was unlikely that he would have cared.

Affection was obvious in the way the Uchiha relaxed again after Naruto began to shout back. This was normal. This was okay. This was friendly. Sasuke and Naruto, despite appearances, were friends. Friends.

Gaara's eyes closed slightly, into a glare of sorts, before turning and walking slowly down the street back to the house of the demon boy. To wait for his return.

Tip for Gaara (ToG): I don't believe that Gaara's character can ever soften that much after he fights Naruto. So I avoid making it seem that way.


End file.
